Ouroboros Spine Little Girl, Little Girl

There was concern deep in those emerald eyes of her, glistening with unshed tears and as her ears pressed to her skull, so did his own. He is quiet, listening.  

I know... He murmurs, going to close the gap between them and press so that his chest is to her shoulder and his head placed onto her nape in wolfish hug. I see it too, in dad. Stiff in places where old wounds are buried. This winter harder then the last, yet his mother showed no ailments in her age, being a year or so younger. Yet Shikoba, she was even older... She had lived long and strong. 

I know when the time comes, they will go to the Dancing Lights to greet our ancestors but... His words drift. It was bitter sweet, to live so long and fruitful, yet nothing could smother the sorrow of it still.